My Angel in the Dark
by Noxid Anamchara
Summary: Carol wakes from a nightmare, shaken, remembering a past she longs to forget and a daughter she hopes never to. Hint at Caryl.


**EM**: This story follows my other one, All We Are. Certain characters (that belong to me), and events won't make sense to you if you haven't read it. **But** it is not necessary for you to do so. This takes place in the winter between season 2 and 3.

Thank you for being here!

**Disclaimer**: The Walking Dead belongs to Robert Kirkman and AMC. No infringement intended for _Lullabye for a Stormy Night_ by Vienna Teng, and _Everybody Hurts_ by REM.

**Rated: M **for Verbal Abuse and Language.

**Summary: **Carol wakes from a nightmare, shaken, remembering a past she longs to forget and a daughter she hopes never to.

* * *

My Angel in the Dark

_For you know, once even I was a little child and I was afraid, but a gentle someone always came to dry all my tears  
Trade sweet sleep the fears and to give a kiss goodnight_

Carol could see Sophia playing in the grass with Riff, the wind tossing their clothes and hair. Deena sat off to the side, her voice carried on the wind, light and child-like. She had forgotten how young Deena was. She had started to act older than she actually was. But there, as she sat with their children, singing softly to them, Carol could see the youth in her face. The years she still had ahead of her. The memories she would make.

_Well, now I am grown and these years have shown, rain's a part of how life goes but its dark and it's late  
So I'll hold you and wait 'til your frightened eyes do close_

She was watching Riff and Sophia longingly, and she leaned back on her hands, closing her eyes, her face turned up to the sky. Sophia was _laughing_.

_And I hope that you'll know that nature is so, this same rain that draws you near me  
Falls on rivers and land, and forests and sand, makes the beautiful world that you see in the morning_

The sky turned dark. Sophia whipped around, her eyes scanning for something that Carol couldn't sense. Carol started to run for her, for her daughter. Riff's hands stopped moving, his body unnaturally still. Deena's voice echoed around her, the beautiful lullaby eerily at odds with the scene before her. Sophia stood up, panic etching her face now.

"Mom?" She called out.

Carol tried to call her name but she couldn't speak.

_Little child be not afraid, the wind makes creatures of our trees  
And the branches to hands they're not real, understand and I am here tonight_

Riff turned then, his face deathly white, eyes clouded over. And his face, his once beautiful, child-like face, was half-eaten away. Carol could see through his cheek and into his mouth, what teeth he had left, rotten. He had a bite mark on his neck, where a chunk of flesh had been torn from him. Blood covered his clothes, defiling his pure nature. He was a monster.

Deena still sang to the dark sky, her eyes closed, oblivious to the horror.

_Everything's fine in the morning the rain will be gone in the morning_

Carol ran for Sophia, shouting her name. But no sound came forth.

And Riff turned, and sank his teeth into Sophia's calf, and her daughter's blood-curdling scream pierced her heart.

_But I'll still be here in the morning_

* * *

"…up, Carol." Her eyes flew open. She reached over and grabbed for her bag at her side.

Someone was shaking her arm. Solid, and warm. Calloused. It was quiet, the sky dark above her. The stars were out and her breath puffed in front of her, in short bursts. The others were still asleep around her.

"Hey." She turned over, the voice at her side, rough and unrefined.

"You okay?" His brow was pinched, in worry, but he scanned the camp they had made for the night. The warmth of his hand still lingered against her arm.

She nodded, and then cleared her throat softly. "Yeah," she responded lowly, rubbing her temple. She felt her cheeks then, wet. "A dream…or a memory," she said hesitantly, wiping the tears away quickly.

"Well which is it?" Daryl asked quietly. Carol turned her face to the night sky, the few stars winking at her as the fading memory of Deena left her heart aching.

"Both," she whispered softly. Perhaps Sophia was with Deena and Riff now.

"Are we safe?" Daryl's feet shifted, the crossbow in his hands a talisman against the evil that haunted them. She could see his head bob in the moonlight.

"You were startin' to moan in your sleep." She pulled her thin blanket up across her shoulders and turned away from him. Heat rose to her face. That was just what she needed.

"_When you think you've had too much of this life, well hang on_." Carol turned to the voice. Maggie was seated with Glenn, huddled in his arms. It was her voice that drifted softly across the camp. Her voice that suddenly made Carol _remember_.

"She's been singin' on and off all night," Daryl whispered to her. Flashes, bits, and pieces of memories cascaded over her. Memories of the girl who had given her hope, the boy who had sung to her Sophia and made her laugh. Memories of pitch black closets, and too many visits to the doctor. Memories she needed to both _forget_ and _remember_.

"Is she alright?" Carol asked, quietly. Daryl nodded slowly, studying her face.

Carol curled into herself, trying to shake the remnants of the nightmare. Deena's voice tangled with Maggie's, rattling her.

Something bumped her shoulder and then Daryl was sitting by her side.

"_Everybody hurts, take comfort in your friends_."

Daryl was watching her, something she usually didn't _catch_ him doing. He either looked away when she found his eyes, or he wouldn't let it linger long. This time must have been different.

"Seems Beth can't sleep," he said, his eyes shifting over her face. "Keeps thinking on that Patricia woman." Carol found Beth's form, lying between Hershel and Maggie.

"_Everybody hurts, don't throw your hand. Oh, no don't throw your hand_." Beth shifted on the ground, sniffled. Maggie pulled out of Glenn's arms and curled up towards Beth.

Glenn looked up then, spotted them both watching, and nodded. He curled up behind Maggie, after tossing a few more sticks toward the dying fire. It wasn't supposed to be big, but they needed the heat.

"_If you feel like you're alone, no, no, no, you are not alone_."

Carol turned to Daryl, his body close. Their hips were just barely touching, but it was enough that she felt the heat radiating from his body. She wanted to scoot closer, curl into his body like Maggie had done with Glenn.

"_If you're on your own in this life, the days and nights are long_."

She knew better than to throw away what he was already giving her. Daryl was different than the others. Talking, looking, and touching were all things that she suspected he hadn't grown up with. And her marriage had been devoid of anything gentle for that matter as well, but she could remember her own mother. She could remember the days she spent with Sophia. A touch to the arm, a hug for good luck, a lingering gaze, and even a hand shake. All those things were foreign to him. She _knew_ that.

He surprised her though. She looked up in time as his body shifted closer to hers, hips, and shoulders touching. Even through the blanket, Carol felt it all.

He turned towards her, his head tilting down.

"You wanna talk about it?"

She couldn't remember the last time she had felt as if someone had just kicked her walls down. Sometimes, talking with Daryl was like diving headfirst into a pool of cold water.

"_When you think you've had too much of this life to hang on_."

She wondered if she made him this nervous too. She didn't want to say the wrong things. Didn't want to _do _the wrong thing. She knew their friendship was fragile, like baby birds, setting out to fly. If they weren't ready, they would fall to their deaths. But if they were, _oh morning sky_, if they were. They would fly gloriously.

"It was just a dream, Daryl," she whispered back, turning away from his face.

He bumped her arm with his. "You called out her name," he said gently, his face turning down. He fingered the crossbow hesitantly. "_Sophia's_."

The way he said Sophia's name made her long for her baby girl. He always managed to say it with such _care_, as if he could just cradle it softly.

"_Well, everybody hurts sometimes. Everybody cries_."

Carol studied him this time. The curve to his stooped back. The angel wings that graced his leather jacket. The crossbow, held protectively in his weathered hands. His brow, knit together at his inner thoughts.

"_And everybody hurts sometimes. So, hold on, hold on_."

Carol had lost her faith. It had taken her a long time to admit that. When she lost Sophia, she had lost God. And that had hurt her, deep inside. She had counted on God to keep her strong, to keep her moving forward when she was living in a nightmare. There were times when she had thought God was punishing her for something. And then he had given her Sophia.

And he had taken her away just as swiftly.

Carol would never understand that. So she blamed God, and let him go.

"_Everybody hurts. You are not alone_."

But she hadn't lost her angel.

"It was a dream," Carol said, drawing his attention back to her. "A dream about the past." She looked down at her hands, wondering if she would ever be worth something.

Worth _loving_.

"I haven't done a damn thing right since the world went to shit," Carol said heatedly, curling her hands into fists. She could feel her nails digging into her palms, the feeling sharp and almost justified.

"I couldn't save _anyone_." _Not Deena, or Riff. Not even my own little girl. _

"Stop that," Daryl said roughly, closing one of his hands over hers. His hand was warm, and calloused. Rough from days of hard work and penance. She remembered Ed's hands being rough, but his hands had scared her. Daryl's hand made her feel safe, made her feel…

She looked up at his face, searching his eyes for an answer she was unsure to what the question was.

He pulled his hand away, quicker than she suddenly wanted him too. No one had held her hand liked that.

_No one_.

He cleared his throat and shifted away from her, the cold hitting her hard.

"Why don't you try to sleep?" He suggested, his eyes searching the trees surrounding them, avoiding her face. She pulled the blanket tight against her, burying her nose against the material.

She lay down, curling on her side, facing Daryl. She watched him, as he watched the group. She breathed in the smell of the blanket, old and musty.

And she suddenly missed the smell of Sophia. The way her hair had always smelled like springtime and meadows, even after the world had ended. Sophia always reminded her of the way the posies, the lilies, the tulips and the orchids would smell when springtime would come and the flowers would bloom.

Sophia had always liked to spend her time outside.

Carol fell asleep to the memory of Sophia and her eyes on Daryl's back, the white wings glowing slightly in the dark.

* * *

"_No one will ever love you, you hear me? No one. What would any man in their right mind see in you, but a piece of worthless pussy who can't do anything but cook and clean?"_

_His coal-grey eyes bore down on her, tearing the confidence from under her feet. _

"_Worthless," he uttered, smirking. _

Carol forced herself from sleep, the memory in the dream lingering behind. She couldn't stop her heart from slamming against her chest, or her eyes from searching for _him_.

And somehow, he seemed to know. He seemed to know that she was looking for him.

His eyes found hers, and he knew that something was wrong. He took a few steps in her direction, to come to her side. But she waved him off.

He nodded, uncertainly, as if questioning her to be sure. She smiled softly. What had she done in life to find a man like Daryl Dixon?

She didn't deserve what Daryl did for her. Didn't deserve the way he always came to her side to see if she was okay, to stay with her if she needed him. How many times had she berated him over something when he had been there for her?

_You're every bit as good as them._

And she had meant that. But she wondered if he had yet to believe it?

They were both broken. But they were also both mending.

Daryl turned and the wings on his back shifted with him, like real wings moving. She curled back into her blanket, and smiled, that feeling of safety setting over her.

_My angel in the dark._

* * *

**Reviews are a sign of your kindness.**

**A/N: **So I received a LOT of positive feedback for Don't Forget Me. Which surprised me, in a sense. I wasn't really expecting that. Carol sort of hit me with that one after last week's episode and I worked hard on her this past week to make it _right_. And now here I am with My Angel in the Dark, which is a little-bit-of-a-sequel to All We Are. Carol and Daryl weren't as developed as they were in DFM. Time differences, my lovelies. But either way, I'm so glad I'm here, with all of you, in this Dead world of ours.

See you again soon.


End file.
